Should I Start An Art Blog?

Well the simple answer is yes. The long answer is yes. Yes because it could just be a journal with yourself, and maybe perhaps others will read it and maybe they won't. But to start a blog is to at least be open to the possibility of something coming of it. Of peaking the interest of some, or not. But the great thing about a blog is it isn't in someone's face begging them to take part of whatever madness is in your mind. They choose to come to it. Or they stumble upon it. And maybe it will just be a place for me to put all my crazy wacky tacky wild thoughts into form. You could scream from the rooftops and not even one percent of the population of the world would seem to care. So, fuck it. And I guess I have all those dumb voices in my head. What if I say something I regret? What if I change my mind later? What if I'm feeling crazy one day and say a bunch of weird shit? Do or die I guess. What's life to live inside of a shell just to wither away anyways? Okay, yeah this was a great idea for me. And maybe I can find my audience. Not that I do it for an audience. But I guess an audience is the ones that get us. It is the ones that feed us. That are inspired by us, that inspire us. Maybe my audience is niche, but it must exist somewhere in the world. So welcome. My name is Grace Lawless. God damn, that was a long fucking introduction. Haha. Thanks for reading, and I hope you get something out of this nonsense!! Yay. A blog is great because it is like public speaking because it is public, but it is less scary because you can type, delete, edit. Except your words, ideas, thoughts, and inner world is getting thrown into public spaces and that feels scary nontheless. There's a part of me yearing to just shutup be cool and go through life not even making the tiniest wave or ripple. But then there is another side to me so fucking fired up that I will see this vision through. Oh yeah, so I am an artist in Missoula, Montana currently. I am an artist because I decided I was one. And also painting was the only thing that really made me feel this cathartic release. It was the one place I could show up messy, authentic, real, and not be judged or critisiced for it. I think after feeling this way, something in me clicked, like this was it, this was what I was supposed to do. Because expressing myself just felt so important to me, and so special. I feel such a strong passion for it. I think I mentioned to some people in my life, I want to pursue art, and you know, you don't really get a great response from that. My mother's voice rings strongest in my mind. "Find something else, do something else, you cannot support yourself from that." "How about welding?" And quite frankly, if my mother would have just said "Go for it, you can do this, no matter how hard it may be, I believe in you" I think I probably would have turned around a long time ago and said yeah this is hard, maybe I will give welding a go. For me, it's the very essence of someone telling me I cannot do something. That I won't be successful from it that makes me just chase that thing so damn fucking hard. Like who are you to tell me????? Who do you think you are? And right now something just clicked. That my mother is my fire. Sure, I wish she could tell me I am special and that she sees this spark in me and in my art that I will light the world on fire with. But I am starting to be thankful. It is the doubters that keep me going the most. They fuel my fucking fire. And God bless my mom, in her own way she was just trying to look out for me, in the way that she knew how. But I think there are so many layers to it all. She wanted me to be something that she deemed as worthy. And a struggling artist was not one of them. I always make the joke, had she have told me not to be a doctor, I'd be in med school right about now. So thanks for being here and letting me share myself and blurt it out and if you got all this way to this last sentence you deserve a cookie or a kiss. XOXO, LAWLESS